


Deck the Mess Hall

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Festive Ficlets 2019 [2]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Friendship/Love, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21659227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: The reader helps Tom to decorate the mess hall for Christmas. However, neither knows much about the ancient tradition and the results are… strange.
Relationships: Tom Paris/Reader
Series: Festive Ficlets 2019 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559245
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Deck the Mess Hall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aimarooney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimarooney/gifts).



“What the hell is happening in here?”

“We’re decorating the mess hall.” Neelix wore an excited expression, laced with a smidge of worry that he’d - once again - misunderstood a Human custom. He tried his hardest as moral officer but often his best efforts missed the mark. The crew always appreciated the time he put into organising the events but it was difficult at times to work out what they were meant to be celebrating. 

It wasn’t entirely Neelix’s fault, though. For one, Human celebrations were a bit strange - especially the ancient ones. Voyager’s computer banks held a lot of information but some entries lacked any real detail. Due to his large imagination, that rarely bothered the Talaxian and he simply extrapolated the data to create his own unique celebrations.

More often than not, however, Neelix’s attempts were derailed by one particular member of the crew who fed all manner of false and bizarre details which led to even more bizarre parties than usual. Today, that very same Lieutenant was balanced precariously on the top of a mess table, hanging the strangest decorations you’d ever seen above the windows. 

Tom Paris - renowned trouble maker - twisted towards you and Neelix, a wide grin plastered on his face. “Ensign L/N! Come to offer us a hand, have you?”

“Actually, I heard that leola root tart was back on the menu so I came down to get some before the hoards descended. I didn’t realise there was a, uh, celebration tonight. Did I miss the notice?" 

"It’s a surprise,” Neelix said, handing you a piece of tart over the counter. “Tom came to me this morning with the idea and it sounded so fantastic that I couldn’t say no.”

You eyed Tom curiously, your suspicions that he was up to no good leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Of course, it may well have been the tart but you’d grown so used to Neelix’s cooking over the past few years that you’d grown almost immune to it. Perched on the edge of a table, you looked up to Tom and asked, “What are we celebrating then?”

“Christmas!”

“Okay…” You were human but had spent the majority of your life on Deneva Prime with a whole host of other Federation species. As such, you knew as much Earth history as you needed to get by in Starfleet but were about as oblivious as Neelix when it came to certain festivities. “What’s that?”

“An old-Earth festival. Only a few colonies recognise it now. It celebrated the birth of a supposed messiah, King Jesus or something,” Tom explained. You were relieved to hear that it was a little celebrated festival, glad to have not appeared stupid in front of him. “People stopped fighting, played games and ate until they were sick. A fat man broke into people’s homes and left presents for the kids but if they were naughty they got coal.”

Uncertain what a child of the past would have done with a lump of carbon, you nonetheless filed the information away as potentially useful one day. Scraping the last scraps of leola root tart from your plate, you said, “That’s all very interesting but doesn’t explain why you’re hanging plasma conduits from the ceiling.”

Tom laughed as he jumped down from the table. “Well, Ensign,” he began, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. “People used to decorate their homes to get into the festive spirit. There isn’t much in the computer files but it says anything shiny was fair game. We’re also bringing up a few plants from Airponics because trees were the crowning jewels of decorations, apparently. An old custom started in Germany over eight centuries ago!”

He was so excited as he dragged you through the ship to assist him that you couldn’t say no. After three return trips down to the hydroponics bay (and several apologies to the crew members you crashed into), the mess hall was filled with plants. A final trip to Engineering and Cargo Bay 2 provided you with enough spare parts to act as decorations. 

Together, you and Tom soon converted the mess hall into a Christmas wonderland. The small trees were adorned with all manner of flowers and vegetables. The combination of carrots, Tarcanian wildflowers and potatoes was odd but then Humans of old hadn’t always made the most sense. To make the vegetables more appealing, you used a phaser to burn random patterns onto the flesh. Dilithium crystals, far too precious to break apart or deface in any way, were carefully placed atop of the trees to give them each a crowning gem. 

From Engineering, spanners and wrenches were loosely tied together with spare cables and hung around the mess hall. Each was placed so that the light bounced off them at the perfect angle to make them appear even shinier. Neelix offered a few spoons and ladles to your effort and only fell off the table once while hanging them. 

You never fell, didn’t even lose your balance, as Tom stood behind you and supported you the entire time. You tried not to blush as his fingers tightened on your waist or his hands rest just a little higher up your thigh than was probably socially acceptable but if Neelix’s expression was anything to go by then you failed tremendously. 

As you reached up to hang a final sprig of a Talaxian weed (which was both beautiful and, questionably, edible), your foot slipped on the edge of the table. Braced to hit the ground, you felt Tom’s arms close around you. You glanced up to meet his gaze, surprised to find him fiercely protective and doubly concerned.

"Uh, thanks,“ you mumbled, untangling yourself from his arms when he set you down. Overwhelmed by the emotions, all heightened by a rush of adrenaline, you put a little distance between you and smiled shakily. 

Before you had the chance to say something stupid, the crew of alpha shift came pouring into the mess hall. Equal amounts of awe and confusion filled the room, but the former soon won out. Neelix was more than willing to answer their questions, leaving you and Tom able to slip away without getting caught in the huddle. 

"I’ve got Holodeck time stored up,” Tom said as the Turbolift doors slid shut. “There’s an old Christmas style program I found. We should check it out together. If you want.”

You made your decision quickly, before you had the chance to back out. “I’d love that. I’ll find you at the end of beta shift?”

Tom’s face lit up like a supernova. “Sounds perfect. See you then.”


End file.
